“You mean… it’ll watch us fuck and bottle the results?” I raise an eyebrow.
The Sorceress’s smile widens.
“Crude, but accurate, Master Drake.”
Fucking hell. No pressure, right?
I glance at Irena, whose cheeks are a deep crimson now. Her fingers are trembling in mine.
“It doesn’t hurt,” the Sorceress says gently. “The bindings are only there to hold you in place. And you, Valen, are free to do whatever pleases you… as long as it pleases her as well.”
Her words echo in my chest—As long as it pleases her.
Gods, I want my curvy little Princess so much it’s driving me fucking crazy. But more than that, I want to care for her. Worship her. I want to make her feel safe, seen, and cherished. She deserves someone to treat her like she’s more than a tool, more than just a vessel for magical power.
And I’ll be damned if I don’t show her that now.
“Do you want this, sweetheart?” I murmur, stroking her cheek. “Not gonna do this unless you’re sure.”
Her eyes, wide and shining, meet mine. She nods slowly.
“I need to do this and…I trust you, Valen.”
Fuck. Hearing that nearly breaks me.
“It sounds to me like the two of you are in agreement,” the Sorceress says. “So I will leave you to yourselves—when you emerge from the Heartwell, we can commence brewing the Healing Draught.”
She glides away, shutting the round door behind her and then it’s just me and Irena, alone in the magical room.
I lead my Princess to the dais, guiding her like she’s made of glass.
“Just relax, sweetheart,” I tell her. “Let’s take this slow.”
She lies back, nervous but brave, and I help her settle down on the thick moss that pads the pedestal. I gather the red silk bindings in my fists, but before I use them, I lean in close.
“Say the word and I’ll stop. No matter what,” I whisper, my voice coming out slightly hoarse. “You come first, Irena. Always.”
She nods, breath catching in her throat, and I bind her wrists gently—just enough to hold her, the silk soft but unyielding as it loops around the carved anchors at the edge of the dais. Her arms are stretched just slightly, framing her body, making her utterly open to me.
The light green gown she’s wearing is practically see-through—I can see the heavy globes of her breasts and her tight nipples…the dip of her waist…the rounded curve of her full hips and of course, the little triangle of curls between her thighs. Gods, she’s lovely!
“Just breathe, Princess” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “Let me show you how good this can feel.”
I part the gown—which comes open easily—and bare her body for me. Then I trail kisses lower, nuzzling between the lush swells of her breasts. Her scent—sweet and sharp with nerves and heat—makes my head spin.
“Oh, Valen—what are you doing?” she asks, her breathing shaky. “Aren’t you going to—you know—put it in?”
“Not before getting you ready first,” I say, frowning. “I told you baby—we’re taking it slow.”
I take my time with her, licking and sucking each nipple until they’re tight, peaks, until she’s arching off the padded stone with soft, desperate cries. As I suck, my hands slide down her sides, mapping the dip of her waist…the flare of her hips. Her skin is salty-sweet and delicious. I wish this could last forever.
I kiss down her round stomach slowly, tracing her curves with my tongue, feeling her abdomen quiver under my mouth. When I place a kiss on her belly button, she gives a little breathless laugh.
“Valen—that tickles!”
“It’s going to do more than tickle in a minute,” I promise and kiss her again.
When I reach the soft cleft between her thighs, I pause, breathing her in. The scent of her arousal is sweet and intoxicating. I look up her body, meeting her hazy, silver-green eyes.
